š¹Family Time
Sunday Evening
The table no longer waits for plates,
only for voices.
Coffee steam rises like a quiet prayer,
dessert is shared in slow smiles,
and time forgets to hurry.
Outside, the world keeps running.
Inside, we stay.
With warm hands around fragile cups,
and hearts that finally sit down too.
Some evenings donāt need music.
They are the music.
āWhere coffee is shared in silence, love is always speaking.ā
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